Poems tagged ‘Railway’
Football Railway Time
Do you remember that lazy afternoon
Back in August 1958?
Well, I bloody well do mate.
We were sitting on the bunker
At the end of platform four,
Just by the giant semaphore signal,
When 5050 The Earl of St Germans
Came steaming, Brunswick green and brass dome gleaming,
To a shrieking, whistling halt;
And you showed me how to record the numbers,
In a three-penny red memo book
(Weights and measures on the back),
And how to underline name and number
In my half-crown Ian Allan train book,
And you opened the door to magic:
Happy years at the Iron Bridge, the Greenbridge,
And the Bunky Bridge on the Highworth line,
Playing in the pillbox and then crossing the bridge,
To watch ‘Bert’s Babes’ in close-season training,
And kick a ball with Summberbee, Hunt and co.,
Then showing off their autographs at Christmas,
On Vickers Armstrongs outings with our badges,
After you trapped your thumb in the leather strapped door,
And the milepost says it’s seventy eight miles and a furlong
From Swindon Junction to Paddington;
Or sneaking on to the station
When you couldn’t afford a platform ticket,
Staring at the Five Boys Chocolate,
And the machine that stamped your name for a penny,
Or watching the trains from the Milk-bank,
Or a signal box with its clunking, clanking levers,
Then taking me inside the Railway Works
On a school holiday Wednesday afternoon,
Queuing to walk through that hallowed entrance,
Then along the tunnel into a Wonderworld
Of mechanics, machines, girders, cranes and grease,
And odd bits of steam engines, with the numbers
Chalked on steam-pipe, or funnel, or wheel,
And it counted as a cop –
You told me it wasn’t wagging and so it wasn’t!
And do you remember the men pouring out
From the Works and Pressed Steel at lunch time,
A river of men on bikes in full flood
In a frantic rush for grub and a fag,
And do you remember seeing 70030,
William Wordsworth, strain and slide
In snorting steam on ice cold winter days?
Or seeing sunlight shimmer, gleaming
On endless heat-hot railway lines,
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Welcome to Football Poets -- a club for all football poets, lovers of football and lovers of (alternative) poetry. Discover poets in every league from respected internationals at the top of their game to young hopefuls in the school playground.
Publish your football poems here and then discuss them with your team mates and fans. We're archived by The British Library, so your masterpieces are in the safe hands of a world-class keeper. What a result!
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Latest Poems
joe morris
9th December 2023
Gacina Bozidar
8th December 2023
joe morris
4th December 2023
John Gilbert Ellis
3rd December 2023
Rowan Waller
2nd December 2023
Clik The Mouse
1st December 2023
joe morris
1st December 2023
joe morris
30th November 2023
joe morris
26th November 2023
Crispin Thomas
26th November 2023
Crispin’s Corner
In Memoriam
Kick It Out & Christmas Truce
Latest Comments
19th November 2023 at 1:45 pm
Thanks Gacina, glad you liked it, and I have just posted a new one about our points deduction…
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7th November 2023 at 6:34 pm
Today B.B.C post on F.B was titled:Premier League reduced to 18 clubs? I really think it may be interesting to see if this would be Everton’s nightmare and this poem is well suited for this concern.If there would be more difficult battle to stay if there were 18 teams.Great poem and somehow true.
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6th November 2023 at 4:43 pm
Ashington FC have launched a £50,000 Crowdfunder appeal to meet the increased costs of winning promotion last season, to pay for urgent stadium improvements, travel costs and equipment
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31st October 2023 at 4:26 pm
‘Three Teams Worse Than Us’ from our Toffee friend Denys in Italy, also sums up how FGR fans currently feel. Yes, in our case, with two going down to the Conference, it could be entitled ‘Two Teams Worse Than Us’, but three would make us feel even safer.
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6th October 2023 at 11:49 pm
Enjoy it while you can, although I’m sure Mbappe could well be bound for St James
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2nd October 2023 at 1:52 pm
There still remains a magic about the early rounds of the FA Cup that the premier league / internationals can never match.
Coventry Sphinx v Leicester Nirvana sounds so much more than a tale of two cities etc. etc.
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24th September 2023 at 5:14 pm
Very accurate indeed!
Palace home for me is always a tough journey as well. From the wilds of west London to Selhurst is a random journey into the unknown.
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20th September 2023 at 1:37 pm
Lovely stuff for one of the best.
We love him to death down at the Palace.
I’ll post my Roy poem a bit later. You’ve inspired me to finish it.
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19th September 2023 at 5:06 pm
I’d like to think some of my scarves might get passed down the generations, but can’t see some of the “quality merchandise” I have making much past my son’s generation. They’ll fall apart before he even has kids, I reckon!
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7th September 2023 at 2:43 pm
Very true Crispin. Thanks!
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